


Memory

by fandomsandfanfics



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 12:18:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2228748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomsandfanfics/pseuds/fandomsandfanfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The beginnings of a fanfic I started writing. Trying to decide whether or not to continue so if you could give feedback and tell me if you like it that'd be awesome. </p><p>Includes Donna and Wilf, Yowzah, the master, ancient Egypt, history exploding, World War II and many other things in the future</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter I. The Doctor hates endings

It was necessary to forget Donna Noble. It was necessary for the Doctor to wipe his own memory as he had wiped hers, but he just kept thinking. He could never just destroy those shining memories of the most important woman in the world who'd never know how she saved it. He couldn't keep the memories, but he couldn't destroy them, so what could he do? The Doctor thought he'd give them away. 

"What're you doing here?" Wilfred asked, sitting down at the white diner table. "I thought you wouldn't be coming back to Chiswick after, well...you know..."

"Wilfred," said the Doctor, folding his hands on the table with a stone-faced stare, "I need to ask you a favor." 

"I'm 'ere boss," said the old man with a dutiful nod, "Whatdya need?"

"I need you to keep the DoctorDonna alive," he said, tapping his temple, "In your head. She's a creature of memory now--my memory...all those thousands and thousands of heartbreaking memories..." He looked down sadly, almost ashamed. "Wilf, I can't do it. I can't keep all those memories for all those years, and just keep going. " he looked up at Wilf again. "I need you, old soldier."

Wilfred looked sadly at his friend, but gave him a firm-faced salute. "I'll do it sir. You know I will. Anything for her, and you. I'll keep the DoctorDonna alive, you bet I will."

"Thanks, Wilfred," the Doctor said, a little more emotionally than he would have hoped. He closed his eyes, readying his mind for the process then took a deep breath and placed his fingers on Wilfred's temples. 

It was like an influx of breath that Wilfred felt when all the memories came rushing in. They hit him like a waterfall, with deafening force; memories of battles, victories, hugs and hatred, things he didn't even know about his own granddaughter. They crashed down around him...so many that it almost hurt, but Wilfred was nothing but strong when he opened his arms to the waterfall with a war cry of "Donna!" 

And then...it was silent. The water gay was gone and Wilfred found himself again sitting in a retro-style diner with a coffee and a head full of new memories. "D-doctor." He stammered.

The Doctor's face was blank. He stood up as soon as he opened his eyes and gave a polite nod to the old man. 

"Goodbye," he said to the stranger. 

It took Wilfred an open-mouthed second to realize what he had done. The Doctor had forgotten--his part in this was done. It was all down to Wilfred now.


	2. II. What happened to the Universe?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> River's universe starts to collide with Gallifrey, the Timelords hold council and a particularly brave one defys her president, and we meet a mysterious Parisian girl from WWII.

River looked out the window at what should have been her garden. But the sky was golden and the red grass fields stretched as far as she could see. She opened the sliding glass a crack to hear the voice that kept repeating. It was a man's voice, sad to the bone, but with a psychopathy that seemed almost familiar. 

"No more golden skies," it said, "No more red grass fields for me."

River closed the window quickly, not wanting to hear the voice again. This was how universes collapsed, she realized. It started with one moment in time. She was caught in a time loop from another pocket universe, and at any minute they were about to collide. She only wondered which one would collapse first. 

\------

The master could hear his own voice looping in his head like the drumbeat the high council refused to take out of his head. He was stuck in a moment in time that never existed, he was outside, he stood on the roof of the prison he couldn't leave. 

"No more golden skies," he said, "No more red grass fields for me."

He knew now that his Gallifrey was lost, he knew it when his own people captured him with a horrible trick, and he felt in each blow of the jailer's whip. He felt it in the planet's time lock, and in the time locks that were keeping him alive. Moments that never existed, moments repeating over and over, people and places that never should have been. It made him wonder when his love would return. 

\---------

"The Marais hasn't been the same since the year of the stars began," Alice wrote, the ink falling from her fountain pen into carefully lettered handwriting, "Ever since 1942 started, they've put gold stars in our jackets, children in the streets and starving in our homes. We've started brewing Le Café National, drinking coffee made from dried barely at breakfast. 'The French will always have coffee,' my mother says, 'Even the nazis can't take that away from us.' But the cafés are quiet now, we're all afraid. Ever since this war started, father's been saying the Nazis are just waiting to knock on our doors and take us to the camps. We must pray that the Allies make haste.

Dearest Fritz, I know you have not replied to my letters and I hope you and your family are safe in Berlin. If this one reaches you, please to send reply, though I know it is dangerous." 

Alice stopped writing suddenly, hearing a noise in the hallway. She quickly folded the letter and put down her pen, turning in her chair towards the source of the noise. The wooden door was shut, but Alice made no move to open it. The sound had already reached her. 

It was an unfamiliar knock on her door. 

\---------

"The walls of our world are collapsing," from the woman's place of shame behind him, the power in the President's voice was deafening. "The pocket universe the Doctor's made for us is not enough." 

"But Mister President, Sir," replied the man at his right, "My colleagues and I have devised a plan that can save our planet. In this manner we may traverse the universes and implant ourselves into another one..."

As the woman heard it, the plan was fairly simple. The gallifreyans had found a woman named Temple-Noble, an associate of the doctors, who had fused herself with him in a human-timelord metacrisis. This human-timelord fusion DNA was the perfect blueprint for the timelords. They could use Donna to extrapolate the human-timelord combination onto the other people on the planet, eventually making way for the timelords to replace them. 

"But this Temple-Noble woman," said one of the council members, "Will she be able to survive such an enormous data load?"

The President's assistant shook his head. "A minor casualty," he said with a wave of his hand, "But we should be able to keep her, well, not *alive*---but functioning---until the data transfer is finished."

The woman watched silently from her place of shame in Rassilon's shadow, but inside, her mind revolted. She could see the horrors of what the timelords were about to do and she knew there was only one way she could even attempt to stop them. So she let the unseen tears fall from her eyes and steeled herself for what she had to do.


	3. III. Temple-Noble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor meets some familiar friends in a temple in ancient Egypt that may not actually exist.

"So, what do you call this place?" The Doctor asked the dark haired priestess, looking up at the painted hieroglyphics on the building. 

"Temple-Noble," said the girl, puffing her chest out with pride, "Eighth house of Isis at Philae."

"Why'd you call it that?" The Doctor asked. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn't think of where he'd heard it before. 

"It was commanded by the goddess through the second high priestess," said the woman, gesturing towards a red-haired woman as she exited the temple. The priestess looked back and, seeing the newcomer, walked over to greet him. 

"Priestess Donna of Temple-Noble," she said. "Welcome." 

"I'm the Doctor," he said, bowing to her. "Could you show me the inside of your temple?" 

Donna nodded. "You're here to see the prophet I assume?"

The Doctor nodded, showing them his psychic paper with the word "Help" inscribed on it. "He sent me a message."

Donna nodded, leading him into the temple. The dark-haired priestess took up the rear, following the little procession past painted walls and through golden curtains until they reached the middle room. 

The center of the temple was dimly lit by a fire pit at the very middle of the room. In front of the pit was a dark red cushion reserved for the prophet, a solemn faced, white robed...ood. 

"Well, that was certainly not what I expected," said the Doctor. 

To his further surprise, the ood pulled out a white sphere from one of its robes and spoke to him. "Hello, Doctor."

"Ood Sigma!" The doctor exclaimed, "What are you doing in Ancient Egypt?"

"What are you doing here?" the Ood replied, "Why is Donna Noble here? Why is Alice here?" He gestured towards the dark haired priestess. 

Alice and Donna looked at each other, confused. 

"I live here," Alice said. 

Donna nodded. "So do I."

The Doctor looked at both of them, shaking his head. "A redhead and a blue-eyed girl in Ancient Egypt. That's impossible. Who are you really?"

Alice turned to look at the ground, her brow furrowing in concentration. Suddenly, she back up at the doctor. 

"I'm Alice," she said, "And I'm from 1944. I live in Paris." 

Donna looked up as well, nodding. "I'm Donna Temple-Noble. I'm just a temp from Chiswick--why's the temple named after me?"

Ood sigma was silent. He knew who Donna was but he also knew that he couldn't tell her. His words were all she needed to bring all her memories back. And that was just what the timelords wanted.


	4. IV. A Master Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "River," he said softly, "What do you know of the weeping angels?"

River hadn't expected the red grass to be real. But as she stepped outside her door into the brightly colored field, everything felt real. She could feel the warmth from the twin suns, the grass tickling her legs--she was almost sure that she'd actually stepped into another world. 

She made her way towards the one object that had stood out from her window landscape. It was a smooth black box, like a prison and it stood absolutely still and silent at the middle of the field. Her view didn't change as she walked up to it--the side facing her was blank--no information whatsoever. 

"What are you?" She said, running her hands over the smooth surface as she walked around the box.

Suddenly, River stopped, realizing that this was the front. She searched the surface for information until she found the box's label. She couldn't read it, of course--the language was foreign--but it told her exactly where she was. She couldn't help the little shiver of fear that ran her as she stared up at the circular writing. Gallifreyan. 

The black box opened and a guard stepped out. "Are you here for visiting?" He asked in a monotone voice. 

River nodded. "Er---yes. Visiting."

The guard nodded and turned back to go inside. River followed him, inspecting the dimly lit halls as she went. The prison was much more old fashioned inside than she had expected. It followed the bigger-on-the inside gallifreyan style, but the inside walls seemed to be made of stone, and dirty stone at that. The prisoners were held in cells with bars and chains, and the whole place stank like human waste. The whole place unnerved River, but she stayed calm, following the guard to the cell at the end of the hall. The guard stopped there and nodded at her. "You have fifteen minutes."

River took a deep breath, looking over the darkened silhouette of the prisoner. He was a blonde man, chained to wall by his arms, his body hanging weakly like a crucifix, his head hanging down. She took a step towards him, positioning her face to get a clear view through the bars. 

"Hello?" She said.

\-----------

"Hello, Professor Song," Fritz nodded towards the blonde agent as she entered the room and have her the fürher's salute. "Heil Hitler."

"Heil Hitler." She replied, taking off her black hat and unbuttoning her coat. 

"Any news?" Fritz asked, adjusting his uniform. 

"The roundups went well today," River nodded at the blonde man, "We've infiltrated the Marais, and it seems Paris is still in submission. Oh, and---my husband brought some of the collection--anything we thought might be useful." She gestured to the brown suited man who nodded at them both as he entered the room with a brown suitcase."

"Thank you, Doctor," Fritz said as the man set the suitcase down and straightened his bow tie. 

"And you, Master Fritz," the Doctor said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have business to discuss with my wife."

"Of course." Fritz nodded, "Goodbye Doctor."

"Goodbye, Master," the Doctor answered, taking River into the adjacent room with him and shutting the door.

Fritz sighed, lifting the suitcase onto his desk sifting through the pile of letters and documents that spilled out when he opened it. He skimmed over the papers. Bank documents, journals, family letters, all boring. His eyes went faster and faster as they started to glaze over...until suddenly he stopped upon seeing his name. 

"Dearest Fritz," he read as he unfolded the letter, "I know it is very dangerous to write this letter, and you must destroy it as soon as you read it, but I miss you so. Paris has been so sad since the invasion..." 

Fritz shook his head, closing his eyes. No. It couldn't be. He opened his eyes again quickly, skipping to the bottom of the letter. 

"Dearest Fritz, I know you have not replied to my letters and I hope you and your family are safe in Berlin. If this one reaches you, please to send reply, though I know it is dangerous." The letter stopped there. The soldiers must have picked her up while she was writing it. 

Fritz didn't want to read the rest of the letter. "Alice," he murmured as he threw it into his burning fireplace, allowing himself to think of her dark hair and blue eyes one last time. 

"River," the Doctor said urgently, slamming the office door, "Have you noticed what's wrong yet?"

River shook her head, baffled. "What's wrong?"

The Doctor took River by the shoulders and looked pointedly at the swastika patch on her shoulder. He took her face in his hands gently and pressed their foreheads together. "River, think!" 

River looked into his eyes for a moment, searching. Suddenly she gasped. "Oh!" She looked back at her shoulder. 

The Doctor nodded. "That's right. We're not Nazis--why are we working for them in occupied Paris?"

"You're not even human."

"Neither is Master Fritz."

"What?"

The Doctor gave River a little half-smile. "Ask yourself this---why do you call all the other generals commander but him *master.* Not just Master--The Master."

"Your arch enemy," River breathed. 

"My last brother," the Doctor said sadly. 

River gave the Doctor's hand a little squeeze. "Does the master know who he really is?"

The Doctor shook his head. "I doubt it. But there's no way to be sure."

"Yes there is," said River, opening the door. 

"Sir," she said, looking at the Master/Fritz, "What is your name."

\--------------

"I'm called the Master," said the blonde man, answering River's question.

"Oh," said River, "The Doctor's mentioned you." 

The master's head jerked up to look at her. His face and hair were worn and dirty, but his eyes burned with a hungry rage. "You know the Doctor?" 

River smiled. "I'm his wife." 

"So you've travelled with him?"

River nodded. 

The master smiled as the wheels started turning faster and faster in his brain. This might be exactly what he needed. This could be the last step in his plan. 

"River," he said softly, "What do you know of the weeping angels?" 

\--------------

"The Temple-Noble woman is an excellent foothold," Rassilon announced, taking his place of honor in front of the Gallifreyan council, "But her human strength will last only a few days further. We must act fast."

The council members nodded obediently. "Right on track, sir."

But no one noticed the sudden stillness of the woman who usually shivered behind Rassilon. Whenever anyone looked at her she stayed static, hands covering her face, weeping without tears. It was almost as if she was made of stone...

\-------------

The jailer's whip came down hard on the master'a back as it did every day, but today he smiled even under the biting blows. The guards said he smiled knowingly, like he had some secret plan. 

"But he can't have a plan," he overheard one or the guards saying, "Just look at the state of him. He can barely lift his head."

The guard stopped short as the Master lifted his head slowly to stare at his captors with those awful, hungry eyes. Despite all the trouble it took, there was one thing the master could never forsake--and that was revenge. 

The Master smiled knowingly because he had one huge advantage over the timelords. While his collapsing timeline was killing him, it was also something that he could control. Once he got to the heart of the time explosion that was blowing him up, he'd have enough energy to send all of them to hell. Because, against the time lords, revenge was a dish best served stone cold.


End file.
